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It was dark. He was caught between the rush and fear of the feeling of falling. It was such a constant, he often mistook it for floating before he came to his senses and felt the rush again.
He was also cold, cold to his core. It wasn't because he was a frost giant. Oh no, that cold was rather normal for him. The fact that he was comfortable with that cold was what made him cold from the inside out. He was sick to his stomach that something he grew up to believe so unnatural felt so natural to him. As dark as it was, he could almost see it then, the blue pigment spreading over his skin.
Laughter echoed in the darkness. All different yet blending into one singular bout of laughter. First it was Thanos, then it was Thor, followed by Odin's laughter echoing all around him. Rage filled Loki's vision as his eyes turned red. He closed his eyes, trying to calm himself, willing his Asgardian visage to maintain, but all he saw was anger, destruction, pain, and fear. Still spinning, still falling, he screamed.
Darcy awoke with a jolt, hearing the tail end of Loki's scream. This wasn't the first night she'd heard his cries. But what could she do? They were friends, roommates, but that didn't mean they shared their weaknesses with one another.
She wanted to comfort him, but part of her still feared the unknown. He was a courteous enough man, intellectual, charming, and great for an afternoon sass-off. But Darcy could tell there was a darkness there that left a deep scar. She didn't know how deep it went or where it led, and it scared her, but she cared enough about Loki to find a way to help him.
She had started by trying to share things about her past. He simply acknowledged her plight, told her he understood more than she knew, and went about making mischief at the park to make themselves feel better.
Darcy decided right then and there that it might as well begin with physical comfort, starting that night. She got out of bed and tiptoed to Loki's room. As she entered, she saw Loki on his bed, but he wasn't tossing and turning. He was on his back, convulsing, twitching, and blue.
She had never seen him blue before. Any time she brought it up, he would play some prank or distract her with something from Asgard. Eyes wide, she stood there, staring at his person. Light from the window cascaded over his skin, revealing the details of the ridges on his chest and arms. She wished she was an artist, for as foreign and freaky as his appearance was, it was also beautiful, in a way.
A sharp twitch of his leg brought Darcy back to the present.
Making her way over to the bed, Darcy leaned over Loki. She wasn't sure if his skin would effect her like Thor claimed it might. So she tested her touch by skimming her fingertips along the ridges of his forearm. A shiver escaped. His skin was cool, like melting ice, but she wasn't freezing or frozen. So she placed her hand on his shoulder and lightly stroked his arm. "Loki?" She whispered, "Loki, you're having a nightmare." She wiped his forehead with that same hand, lightly moving along his raised skin. As her fingertips left his forehead, Loki's eyes shot open.
Before she knew it, Loki grabbed her wrist and was above her. Panting with his hand at her throat, Loki glared down at her, his eyes glowing like fire in the night.
Darcy could see madness in those eyes. "L-Loki?" she stuttered in fear. Her eyes tearing up, she continued, "Loki, it's D-Darcy." She tried to settle herself. Freaking out won't do anyone any good. She realized he was still lost in his nightmare, though he was awake. So she moved her hand from his wrist to his face. As she reached his cheek, she said as soothingly as possible, "It's... It's ok Loki."
As if the touch or her tone were a splash of cold water, he seemed to come to his senses.
"D-Darcy?" He stammered as he pulled away, eyes filled with concern. Darcy sat up, bringing her hand to her throat as she did. She tried not to think about the bruise that would form later. Looking chagrined she said, "I... You were having a nightmare. I wanted to try and..I don't know, help somehow."
Loki heard what she said, but was distracted by her throat. He reached his hand up as if to make sure the hand had been his, but stopped once he saw his skin. A look of horror came over his face as he realized what she saw, what she was seeing.
In the blink of an eye, he shifted from Frost Giant to Asgardian.
Still looking at his hand, he whispered, "I'm sorry, Darcy." Curling his hand into a fist, Loki lowered his arm, dreading what she must be thinking. He backed away into the shadows, wanting to disappear, be alone in his nightmares, but Darcy stopped him.
"Wait," Darcy said as she got off of the bed and walked over to him. She grabbed his fisted hand as if to anchor him there. Darcy didn't know what to say, but she'd be damned if she let her friend escape into himself for further guilt. While she contemplated what to say, Loki reached for her throat to heal it. But once he touched her skin and she twitched, he pulled his hand away.
Loki couldn't look her in the eyes. He began to berate himself and let the self-loathing momentarily consume him until he felt Darcy's hand on his face.
His head snapped to look at her, causing her to pull her hand back briefly before she placed it back on his face. Darcy's hand was so warm against Loki's skin. That in itself comforted him, in a way, but he was still with an air of caution.
"It's... It's ok. I'm ok. You're ok," Darcy chanted while she stroked his face. "It's ok. You're ok," she repeated. Those words combined with her warmth caused something to break in Loki. He fell to his knees. Darcy hugged him to her, stroking his hair, murmuring, "You're ok." He wrapped his arms around her waist, trying to absorb her warmth.
They stayed like that for a while. Darcy stroking Loki's hair. Loki trying not to fall apart. He was at a loss for words, caught between pushing her away and keeping her there. Pushing her away from him and his nightmares. Pulling himself away from being comforted by someone he once called a lesser being. But he hadn't been comforted like this in years, since his mother.... No, he wished to stay like this for a time.
In what seemed like hours later, Darcy spoke.
"Do you want to talk about it?" She asked.
Loki gulped, his mind briefly skimming his nightmare that was once his reality. He shook his head.
"Ok," Darcy responded as she stroked his face, "If you need me, you can come to me any time. I don't know what you're going through, I can't imagine, but I'd like to be there for you, if you'll let me. It's what friends are for." She smiled in an attempt to encourage and comfort him. He didn't respond. He didn't even sound like he was breathing. He just felt still, like a statue. Not wanting to overstay her welcome, she began to pull away.
However, Loki's grip around her remained. She looked down at him. "Do you want me to stay?" She asked.
In place of a verbal reply, he loosened his hold on her waist. Darcy leaned forward for one final comforting squeeze, a kiss on his forehead, and said, "Goodnight, Loki."
He let her slip through his fingers as she left, not saying anything as the cold seeped into his skin in her absence.
Feeling cold, alone, and wanting to disappear, Loki vanished from his room
He found himself in his room on Asgard. Loki glanced around at all his familiar things, now foreign to him with the lies of his make-shift father. He went to his balcony and stared out at the night sky, feeling it's vastness and cold to his very bones. Lost in thought, he once again found himself looking down at his hand. Slowly, he let his blue skin seep through, and stared, clenching his fist as he thought. His mind replayed everything; his revelations, his nightmares, mortals screaming, Thanos, Darcy's face as she saw him tonight, The Chitauri, the void, Darcy's warmth as she comforted him. Loki shivered at the memory. A monster such as him didn't deserve such comforts. More than that, he was ashamed that Darcy had seen him in his time of weakness. He was a prince of...
He was no mere mortal. He did not feel sorry for his sins or his mischief. He was no one to be trifled with!
Loki unclenched his fist and let his arm drop dead at his side as his Asgardian visage returned. He almost believed that himself, or at least he used to believe it whole-heartedly, before Thor, before her... Now, he felt as lost as he was in the void, thinking, always thinking. As smart as he was, he wished he could just not think for one evening, just so he could sleep.
A brief thought occurred to him, giving him hope, but he stomped it out quickly. He would not risk hurting her again just so he could find some comfort.
With a sigh Loki resigned himself to sleep and crashed on his bed in a room he once called his, praying the nightmares wouldn't return.